Leandro Reyes (wentupinsmoke) wrote in rrinitiative, @ 2012-09-02 17:46:00 |
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Entry tags: | day three, dominic, dominic and leandro, dominic and meg, leandro, leandro and meg, meg |
It's you!
Characters: Dominic, Leandro, and Meg
Setting: Morning of Day 3, the courtyard just outside the kitchen.
After his all-night bender, Leandro woke up cramped and confused just about an hour after he’d dozed off. He was still in the bathroom, leaning against the sink counter with his hair hanging into the soap and his mouth bearing a film of booze. The fire in the trash can had long gone out. Well, this felt like a royal mess. He roused only slowly, scowling at his reflection in the mirror every time the crick in his neck crackled. It took him some time, but he finally managed to get himself cleaned up and changed and wondered what he should do with himself. In his celebratory self-pity stupor he’d forgotten to assemble the supplies he’d gathered, and now that he looked at them again, he was missing a few things for what he wanted to do. He never had gotten into that tool shed to find the wood and nails he wanted. Well, it was daylight now, so if he really wanted to, it was as good a time as any.
The young man slowly cracked open the door of his room, one dark eye peering out to gauge the condition of the hallway. It was still fairly quiet, with a faint hum of noise coming from the kitchen two doors down. He didn’t really care for being so close to it; way too much potential traffic. At least he was near the elevator, though, if he ever really needed it. Or wanted to really try staking it out.
Feeling reasonably confident, Leandro finally made the decision to step out into the world, letting his door click shut behind him. He was going to head off for the courtyard when someone coming out of the kitchen gave him pause. He stopped, squinted, leaned forward on his long legs.
“Oh. My. God!” he gasped to himself, immediately changing directions. “Hey! Hang on! I totally know you!!!”
He even forgot himself and was about to break into a loping jog when the stitch in his side told him that was a bad idea. He slowed down again, one hand patting his chest, and came to a stop beside the tiny girl with the cotton-puff of blonde hair. “You’re -” he had to cough once into his fist. “I’m sorry. You’re Meg! Oh my God! I totally saw you on twitter! You are so freakin’ cool!” Even though he was winded now, his eyes sparkled and he grinned brightly.
Despite her attempt to show some restraint at breakfast, it had been feeble at best and Meg was feeling uncomfortably full after making her way through six and half biscuits thoroughly drowned in gravy. So it was with one hand rubbing circles against her belly that she was making her way back to hers and Dominic's room with the intention of finding him and seeing if he wanted to read something.
She certainly didn't expect someone to start yelling at her and when she turned around to see a giant decked out in tattoos bearing down on her, she instinctively raised her fists figuring she might be able to deliver a solid whack with her cast somewhere soft and squishy.
Then he was basically on top of her, hacking up a lung by the sound of it and talking about Twitter with a manic grin on his face. Needless to say, she didn't lower her fists but she didn't hit him either, giving him a wary eye. "Yeah, thats me," she said slowly, wanting to see where he was going with this.
Silly Leandro, he often forget that his looks could make others balk at him when he was excited. Sometimes he could be like a dog, just jumping into things and getting in trouble. It usually stung when he was faced with that sudden rejection, but this time he was so excited to meet an internet celebrity that his brain ghosted over the held-up fists and the nervous look. He kept on happily.
"I followed what you guys did on the news and the internet. I can't believe all the stuff you did! You and Dominic have like the biggest balls I have ever heard of. I LOVE you guys. It was so crap when the man got you. I thought damn, the world is about to lose something exceptional. It's so great that you're here!" Well... if they yet knew where "here" was... but in the leaps of his mind "here" wasn't dead just yet or hanging out on death row, so there was hope for someone he ultimately thought made the world interesting. He stuck out his hand – the one he hadn't coughed into – and offered it to Meg. "It's so totally awesome to meet you. I'm Leandro. I didn't really do anything cool, but... yeah."
So he was a fanboy. Fabulous. Not that Meg had a problem with people who were fans of what her and Dom were doing but there came a point where they crossed the line into making her feel uncomfortable, something the few women she’d met at Tutweiler who called themselves fans had done and Leandro was doing an admirable job of doing now. Still he didn’t give off the panty-sniffer vibe some of her male fans had done which was something so she took the offered hand and shook it, her cast staying raised just in case.
Now he was beginning to wonder about the cast a little, withdrawing his hand after the shake and turning his head slightly. "You okay?" he wondered. "Do you like... need some help there?" Leandro's eyes remained on the cast a moment, wondering if she was holding it up like that because she was sore or something. Having a cast on in this place must have sucked. You'd have to wonder how you'd get it off, and when, and who'd keep track of that business.
“I’m peachy,” she replied, sarcasm colouring the edges of her voice. “Having a strange looking guy chase me down after breakfast was totally on my to-do list for today.” Her arm was starting to get uncomfortable in the elevated position so reluctantly she lowered it, shifting her weight slightly onto her back leg ready to kick out if she needed to instead; when Leandro had earned her trust, then she would relax.
"Strange-looking?" Now that had finally gotten his full attention. He wrinkled his brow into a frown and stuck his hands onto his hips. When he stood up straight like that, Meg at five feet would just scrape his collarbone with the top of her head. He wasn't trying to scare her, he was just so lanky that it was difficult to be any other way. "I'll have you know that I'm in high demand by many cushion-less pins looking for security."
He was joking. After that statement, he gave his collar a jaunty flick and winked playfully, the piercings that must have been symbolic of the mentioned pins gleaming on his lip and bridge, hoping that a bit of silliness would put her at ease. "But no, seriously, I just wanted to say hey, and that you have some allies around here. I don't know the total atmosphere of the place yet, but I really appreciate the spirit you and Dominic did things in. Especially with dropping all of that money on the shelters."
Meg let out a small sigh when he straightened up and took a small step back so she wouldn’t have to crane her neck to meet his eyes; her height, or distinct lack of it, never bothered her per se but when she surrounded by people taller than her, it could get a little frustrating. At his pin comment, she let out a huff of amusement before retorting “Well, lucky pins I guess. Don’t make you any less strange looking though.” The kind of strange she’d literally never seen before she and Dom had started travelling around the states.
As he went on, the red flags started coming down and she relaxed a little and while the wariness didn’t leave her entirely, she stopped feeling the need to suss out where the best place to land a kick would be. “Well thanks,” she said, feeling awkward in the way that usually hit her when people praised what she’d done. “It weren’t all so public spirited at the shelter stuff mind.”
"Of course they are," Leandro mused, using his teeth to nip his lip ring and give it a light pop. "There's always room for one more somewhere. I'm not strange, I'm generous." He gave a smile at that, one a little crooked and rather proud of himself.
As for the rest, he regarded Meg for a moment and then lifted one shoulder in a slight shrug. "Public, personal... does it matter? You did it, so it's cool. If it was me I wouldn't just do things 'cause I'm a saint either. It's just ironic to me, that when it comes down to this stuff, it's only ever the disadvantaged who seem to give a crap about the disadvantaged."
She gave him a measured look. “Nope, still strange,” she insisted, though this time she smiled as she said it. There was something in the way he spoke that made it clear that what she and Dom had done clearly resonated with the guy which was oddly validating and she found herself nodding slightly. “And sometimes even they don’t give a shit,” she said, speaking with the experience voice of someone who grew up in poverty surrounded by people all too happy to look the other way.
Leandro lifted a brow at her, picking up on her smile and taking that as a good sign. "Well, sue me," he said to dismiss his strangeness one last time. "Maybe I'm the one that's normal and everyone else is strange?"
What they had done had, in fact, did resonate strongly with him. He too had been born into poverty, a fact that never felt like it changed even when the government took control of his life. The home never lent itself to collecting personal or comfort objects. It was a lean existence. With the topic at hand, he curled back into himself a little, folding his arms over his chest. His voice remained strong, however. "Yeah. So true. So if you do, even if you only gave up half the money and took the other half to party in the Cayman Islands, it's still something."
“Maybe,” she echoed, tilting her head slightly and brushing her thumb over the stud in her nose - Leandro might take the tattooed and pierced thing to the extreme but she was hardly a stranger to it herself either. Clearly what she said had hit a nerve with him though, there was no missing the way he pulled in on himself and while she didn’t go so far as to reach out a comforting hand, her expression softened a little. “No passport otherwise we might’ve done,” she said, giving him a crooked smile of her own. “Plan was to check out permanently you know but as you’ve noticed, didn’t quite work out that way.”
This too, Leandro actually understood. He nodded once in grave acknowledgment. He hadn't meant to live past his last crime either, but now that the past few months had drifted by in such a surreal manner, he had lost the nerve to do it. It wasn't too hard to find ways to die in prison, but some momentarily lapsed survival instinct had kicked in. Maybe the same had been true for Meg, he wondered.
"With enough money you don't really need a passport, do you?" That was mostly half-serious. In a way, the mythology of the very rich was thoroughly in place. "But... yeah, I see. I wondered what would happen to you next. I guess we'll find out what the system's answer really is." To illustrate that point, he lifted one hand to their mysterious surroundings. With that consideration, he narrowed his eyes slightly and ventured cautiously, "So... where's Dominic now...?"
Meg pulled a face. “If that were the case, do you think I’d be here?” she pointed out, strolling towards the nearest bench and sitting down, pulling her legs up underneath her so she was sitting cross-legged. When his eyes narrowed, she wondered what he was going to say so when he mentioned Dom, she couldn’t help but laugh, the sheer ridiculousness of what had happened to them not having worn off yet. “You not been reading the journals Leandro?” she said, grinning up at him.
Dominic, almost as if being summoned by his name, was approaching. He made a b-line for Meg, noticing the other guy, sure, but his focus was on the blonde. He walked straight up, without a greeting. He put his hands down on either side of Meg's shoulders, trapping her there on the bench, and he leaned in to kiss her. He drew it out, made it serious, an in depth, hard kiss.
Then he pulled back. "Okay, I feel better." he said in an exhale. Standing straight, he looked at the tattooed guy who was talking with his girl. "Hi." he greeted. Then he paused, eyeing the tattoos. "You give yourself any of those?"
As Meg made her way towards the bench Leandro followed, but hadn't quite gotten to sitting down yet while he answered her question. "No, I'm kind of new. Yesterday afternoon, actually. Have you been here long?"
And then what happened next just made everything so much better. As if to answer, Dominic appeared, and Leandro's face lit up in another grin. He offered the two a bit of privacy by glancing away to some point off down the courtyard while they greeted each other, but then he was back to... well, fannishly introducing himself to the man who addressed him.
"Hi!" he chirped back, offering out his hand. "Dominic, it is such an honor to meet you too. It's so freakin' cool that you're here, for real. I was just asking Meg about you." As if to explain what he was doing with Dom's girl, he added quickly, "I'm Leandro, I'm kind of a fan. I followed you guys on twitter. You're both totally awesome." Dom's question gave him pause, at which he turned his chin down and briefly examined his own tattoos. "Did I do any myself? Well, no... I'm not an artist. Why do you ask?”
Slightly stunned but thoroughly delighted by Dom’s sudden and passionate arrival, Meg was left reeling by the kiss, a dopey smile on her face. “Hi to you too,” she murmured, hand instinctively seeking out his as he and Leandro began to talk.
Dominic laced his fingers through Meg's, attention still on Leandro, quirking a half smile as the guy practically bounced at them. "Leandro, nice to meet you." he said, having had the reaction before--just usually by girls. Still. At least it wasn't creepy yet. "I ask because I need a new one." he said.
Then he glanced at Meg. "I need you to write something on my chest." he said, digging a sharpie out of his pocket. "Which I'm guessing will have to do til I hear back about tattoo bullshit, or find someone who can ink it permanently."
It was sweet to see them together. That was one thing Leandro imagined a lot of fans liked – that no matter what happened those two were always side by side. It was rare that he himself ever really fell for mush, but in this one instance it seemed like such a fairy tale, however odd, that even he had to give it props. Just a little. Maybe.
But he considered Dominic's question for a moment, and then shrugged vaguely. "Eh, well... I know how tattoos are done like the back of my hand, but I can't draw. If you can find someone who can, I can tell them how to do it. At least get them to trace your flash on." He was referring to the sheets of tattoo templates, called "flash", that acted as stencils for the image before it was pressed onto the skin like a temporary and inked over. "Can I ask what you want done?"
Meg took to the sharpie, giving it a suspicious look. “You do remember the part where I’m right-handed yeah?” she said, waving her cast around. She was completely unfazed by the notion of drawing something on Dom, they’d done far weirder things in their time together, but she didn’t want it to look shitty, especially if she was understanding what he was getting at right.
"I remember, I don't care if it's messy." Dominic told her. He also took a second to tug his shirt off, which revealed a few other tattoos, including the one on his hip that read 'in spite of all the danger'. He literally picked Meg up and took her seat, depositing her sideways on his lap, so she could write what he wanted. He pointed to right over his heart, beside the scar on his chest from where he'd been shot on the right side. He looked between Meg and Leandro. "I want a 'do not resuscitate' order written there. For now, if I have to go with a hand-written version, I'm good with that, but it occurred today that I'd feel better with one in place." he explained to them both. "But yeah if you wanted to help at all, I'd take it."
Do not resuscitate? That made Leandro crinkle his brow a little as he moved in to butt into the scene, standing sort of behind Meg to watch unabashedly. Well, he supposed that was Dominic's choice, and he must have had a good reason.
"Sure, I could help if you want," he agreed, considering Dominic's chest and the other tattoos already on his body. "Hm, so you requested tattoo stuff? If they don't give it to you there are other ways of making the picture stick. Could give you a branding. I found some matches. If there's an awl in that shed over there, or if I can find the right type of knife or pen nib or anything, it could work. That might be safer than trying to homebrew some ink. I've seen dudes get nasty infections from their gang tats. The heat should kill some bacteria but it will hurt like hell."
Looking less than convinced, Meg tugged the lid off the pen with her teeth, narrowly avoiding losing hold of it when Dom moved her into his lap. Unlike Leandro, she wasn’t confused by what he wanted, instead giving a small nod of approval, spitting the pen lid into her lap so she could press a quick kiss against his scar. With a determined expression on her face, she set about starting to write, getting as far as the ‘D’ before what Leandro was suggesting registered with her and her head snapped up. “No freaking way!” she snapped, eyes narrowed. “You use the proper stuff or you go without, I don’t what you getting infected or something.” A note of panic was creeping into her voice at even the thought of Dominic getting sick, if it were to actually happen she wasn’t sure what she would do.
Seeing Leandro's reaction to the explanation, he provided his own. "I wasn't actually supposed to walk away from this." he said, tapping the scar on his chest. He also would have said more, but Meg was being distracting. Dominic hadn't really thought the branding idea sounded that bad, and blinked when Meg had her mini freak out over it. He reached out, and cupped her chin, tilting her face back towards his. "MM," he said, voice calm and steady. "Nothing'll get done that you don't approve of, okay?" he assured her. "Don't worry about it." He looked back up at Leandro. "So I guess no on the brand then." he said, quirking a smile.
Leandro just shrugged at them both, maybe mildly disappointed. He didn't have a brand, and seeing one done would have been morbidly fascinating. "Your call, dude. I hope you get your needle then. I wonder how they'll react to something like that. I mean, in any other prison I've ever heard of they disallow them because people will use tats to identify gangs, of course. But this... doesn't seem like a normal situation." His eyes briefly flicked towards the cafeteria doors, knowing what was newly behind them, but he didn't feel like sharing the secret just yet, not even with Dom and Meg. Maybe after some time had passed, so he wasn't immediately pinned for late-night sneaking as he did. This was starting to feel more and more like a game.
"Anyway, mind if I ask you something?" Now that his thoughts were back on the facility, he regarded both Dom and Meg with that same confusion. "If you guys are both here, together, and you're not barricading yourselves in against whatever, why do you still want a DNR?"
The reassurance from Dom worked and the tension that had flooded Meg’s body began to ebb away. “Okay” she replied, nodding as much as she could when he had hold of her chin like that, muttering “Damn right that’s a no,” as he turned back to Leandro. Starting work on the ‘N’, which proved to be more of a challenge than the D had been, she glanced up when the question came, curious as to how Dom would answer it.
Dominic let her go, and considered his answer, eyes on Leandro. "I was a little pissed I walked away from what I did in the first place." he answered, which was the truth. "Kind of not looking for a second time around with the 'surprise! you're alive! no you can never see the love of your life ever again!' thing. Wasn't really in the plan. And while I plan to get through this, and leave with her, and all...well. You never know. Call me paranoid, but I'm still sort of waiting to wake up and be told this was a sick, intensely cruel joke."
Leandro shifted his weight as he stood there considering, once again his eyes going subtly dark as they did when he thought. "Yeah, I get that. I'm not judging you, man. It's still way too early in the day to call this situation anything. Not sure I understand the people who are running around all happy like nothing is going on. The resignation is weird. So, I see your precaution."
That said, he looked to Meg next. "Does that mean you're getting one too?"
Meg shrugged, looking back down at her handiwork. “I dunno, maybe?” she replied, a little uncomfortable at being asked. “They might not let me have one after...” She trailed off, knowing how much it had hurt Dom when she’d told him about her suicide attempts and really not in a hurry to do it again. “You’ve gotta of be of sound mind for that stuff to be legal, I doubt I qualify.”
There was a very clear, immediate clench to Dominic’s jaw when Meg started talking. He bit back whatever he might have said, but there was a tension that shot through his frame, even if he drew in a breath and let it out slowly. He opted to focus on Leandro, even if he put his arm around Meg’s back. “I just know I want one. Hopefully they won’t be dicks about it. It’s my life...I’d like to have control over at least that aspect of it, even if ‘control’ is a sketchy concept at best in prison, let alone a situation like this.” he said. “I’ve seen a lot of happy people so far. One of them is painting her bedroom today. So...I don’t know. Guess I’m not sure how to look at it all yet.” he admitted.
The further this conversation went, the more Leandro was beginning to regret asking about it. Something about it struck him uncomfortably as well, especially at Meg's answer. Maybe he was comparing them against the things he had read about them still, but... well, they just seemed different. So much more real, for people who had done all of the things they did. He understood rationally that they weren't cartoon hero figures, but...
"Oh, I guess," he said to Meg, reaching up with one hand to slide through the long side of his hair, the ends trailing over his shoulder. He didn't feel right pursuing any other answer either way from her. Dom provided a longer explanation, one that Leandro listened to with a single certain nod. "Hopefully they won't be dicks. I'm sure the freedom people seem to be getting into here is just an illusion. The catches will come out of the woodworks. Like... notice the part where if you do get out of here, you can't leave with your old identity? They give you a new one. Guess they're not going to ask you if you'd rather not forget." At that, he let a slow, shallow snort fall from his nose. Some people might have benefited from a new identity, sure, but for others... well, it was what they had.
Seated in his lap with her hands resting on his chest, there was no way Meg could miss the way Dom reacted to what she’d said and hated that she was the cause of it, forcing herself to keep writing - the small act he’d asked of her acting as a penance of sorts. It didn’t stop her hand from trembling at the talk of control - her whole life had been controlled by other people except for those two years between Florida and that bar in Alabama and even then, the choices she did make always seemed to back fire. The only exception to that was Dom himself and now she seemed to be uneven ground with him as well, a notion that scared her even more than him getting sick. So she stayed silent, not trusting herself to speak in case she rocked the boat further, letting the conversation wash over her as she tried to finish her task.
Dominic absently brushed his thumb back and forth against Meg's side where his hand rested. He was twitching over things, but that didn't change his natural reactions to things. Hell, he'd kind of dropped everything to find her just to reaffirm in his own head that she was there. He was listening, however, nodding at Leandro's words. It got a quirked half smirk out of him too. "I was wondering if that shit came off as shady to anyone else." he said with a light chuckle. He glanced to Meg, and gave her a quick peck on the temple, since she'd not said anything. "'Course the other thing I wonder is if we're getting new identities...do we get to pick? Or am I going to wind up being 'Frank Johnson' or something?" he posed to them both.
Leandro didn't miss the aura of worry and reassurance that seemed to be floating through the pair of them, with Meg silent and Dom responding with touch. Something seemed off between them, and maybe that was what he'd picked up on a moment ago. He knew that if he'd been offered such a sweeping gesture by a lover, his answer wouldn't have been that he didn't know unless there was something else layered within. Meg's silence, however, suggested that he shouldn't ask her anything more about it. Maybe there was something else he could say, though.
Dom seemed truly sharp, and that much he was glad for. He caught the chuckle with a half-smirk of his own to share in their equal suspicion. "You bet I caught that. I read that thing up and down, left and right. I'll figure out what this is before my time is done... and if it's something I don't like? Well." He regarded the air around him as if someone else was present. Someone else very well could have been, electronically. His voice rose, and when he let it ring like that it had a tendency to catch in his chest and rasp. "It also said that there are a bunch of shrinks watching us. Shrinks are goddamn quacks and psychiatry is a quack science. They don't see anything but through the lenses of their own fucked-up minds. You can make them believe anything." He sniffed at that, thumbing his nose as if he'd just landed a blow on someone standing in front of him. Maybe that would make Meg feel better too, as in a way he'd tried to suggest that someone passing judgment on her soundness of mind was a fraud.
The notion of getting new identities was one Meg hadn’t given much thought towards but it gave her somewhere else to direct her thoughts for a moment, something she was grateful. “So long as I’m Mrs Frank Johnson, I don’t really care,” she said, stopping her writing to venture a small smile at Dominic. Leandro’s little rant pulled her further away from the swirl of dark thoughts threatening to pull her under and she shot him a glance. “Guessing you’ve been on the receiving end of a shrink too then huh?”
Dominic made a face and groaned a little, letting his head fall back a second before he looked back up at the both of them. “Fucking shrinks.” he said, clearly displeased with the idea as well. “You know the fucktard that came in to do my competency interview was sitting there, baiting me? Asking shit like if I felt responsible for what happened to Meg. He was very obviously in the ‘he’s guilty’ camp. His questions weren’t phrased with ‘alleged’ in them at all. Fucker was sitting there, practically fishing for a confession, and at the very least he worded everything like I already had confessed, which hadn’t happened. Then, at the end? He writes this note I can see, even if he’s off camera. Said he was going to tell Meg I was disavowing her.” he finished in a little growl. Yeah, it wasn’t a happy memory for him. “So they can all line up and blow me, bastards.”
Leandro laughed at what Dominic said – not a sound of pleasure, but an animal bark of emotions rallied around his experience. His arms crossed over his chest again, the spark of defiance lighting his eyes. It'd take the powers that be much, much longer to sink him into any form of resignation.
"Assholes," he added to what Dominic said, a curl in his lip. "Yeah, you could say I have. I've been on the receiving end of just about everything. They all think they're higher than God, that they can play with lives, and they don't see how the shit they punish us for was created by their tyranny. All of this bullshit, seriously. Shrinks, doctors, pigs, feds, judges, school boards," as he named people off, one hand broke off to wave in the air. "They only care about turning a dime. They don't care why people are miserable. They don't care why anybody is really poor, or starving, or diseased. We better just do as they say, go along to get along, or we end up here!"
His anger could snap that way and take him to awful places. Sometimes he was better at recognizing it than at other times, and this was one of those times. He was tense, but he took in a breath until his side screamed and slowly went over to the other side of the bench, sitting down in the free space and throwing his wrists over his knees. "You two are cool," he said in a more measured tone. "I know you get it."
Meg knew the exact shrink Dominic was talking about; he’d come to see Meg too, tried to convince her that Dom had washed his hands of her, had said that Meg was responsible for everything and was taking a deal to keep off death row. She’d laughed in his face and called him a dickless son of a bitch who couldn’t find his ass with both hands and a map. Then he’d gotten nasty, talking about her father and the near miss with the college guys in Florida and she’d spat in his face. Needless to say the interview had ended pretty sharpish after that. Dom’s comment about getting blown had her tapping him on the nose with the pen, a disapproving look on her face. “Hey, nobody gets to do that except me,” she said pointedly, not bringing up her reaction to the women they’d met who’d offered to do the same.
Leandro’s little diatribe pulled her up short though and she wound up staring at him for a moment, finding herself feeling grateful he’d decided he liked her and Dominic because hello, anger issues much? and for someone prone to a startling lack of self-preservation at times, she didn’t fancy being on the receiving end of him in a mood. “Glad you think so,” she replied, unsure of what else to say.
Watching Leandro wildly gesturing was interesting. He was clearly passionate about the topic, not that Dominic could fault him for it even a little bit. He did actually agree with a great deal of what was said, and he smiled when he gave them his seal of approval of being 'cool'. Which seemed different to him than the fanboying he'd been greeted with. Like one was just for the image they presented, and this one was for the people they were, sitting on the bench with him.
At Meg's statement, he grinned at her and made a pretend, playful move to bite at her finger, hand on her side pulling her just a little bit closer. When he spoke it was to Leandro, however.
"Control in my life hasn't been much in my hands." he said honestly. "And it was an epically large reaction when I did decide to say fuck them and went my own way." he said, grinning again with his eyes sliding to Meg. His parents hadn't been fans. "After that...she came from somewhere where people were pretty miserable twenty-four-seven. When we started traveling, we saw a ton of it too. After I got put away, I did a few drawings, sent them to some shelters so they could sell them and keep the money. Apparently, there's a whole culture based around criminal artwork and possessions. I was told they sold for a pretty penny." He sighed. "But yeah. People pretty much don't give a damn, in general. Forest for the trees, the cure is worse than the disease, shit like that."
A little calmer now for having gotten it out of his system, Leandro just listened with his head slightly turned, mostly leaning his elbows on his knees. He took in their stories, knowing that for the most part he liked them because they were so similar to his own. It was just unfortunate that all roads seemed to have lead to the same place, and that in the scheme of things they didn't seem to have any more answers than he did. As he sat there now, thinking of a response, he drew a blank. What could be done?
"Yeah... yeah, that's rough," he volunteered vaguely after a moment. "Different place, same crap, right? I didn't know you could sell artwork for cash like that in prison. That's interesting. Possessions, too? That's a bit drastic."
At last he just sort of shrugged. "So what do you do then, aside from what you've already done?"
Meg looked at him, confused. “How d’ya mean?” she asked, expression quizzical. “And babe, if you want me to write ‘resuscitate’ here, you gonna have to spell it for me.” It wasn’t an admission she made lightly in front of other people, as much as she was happy to play the dumb blonde when it suited her, she was all too aware of her lack of education and it bothered her.
"I didn't sell it for cash. I gave it to shelters so they could. I didn't profit from it." Dominic clarified. He leaned forward when Meg asked for the spelling, and he murmured the letters in her ear, happy to remind her if she forgot halfway through. It was going to take her awhile to get through the writing anyhow, with her awkward situation. Then he looked at Leo. "I second her question, what do you mean?"
Leandro didn't bat an eye that Meg needed "resuscitate" spelled. He'd been around plenty of people, like himself, that didn't finish in the school system or didn't have the opportunity to learn as much formal knowledge as the privileged did. He was more concerned with the wisdom of others. So at that, he moved along like it was no big deal, though he did peek over to see how it was coming along.
"Looks good, for writing with a cast," he complimented. To Dominic, he said, "Yeah, I gathered that. I just didn't know you could sell that kind of thing at all. Kind of weird, isn't it? What else could you sell? Locks of hair, undies?" The young man grinned like a dope. He was making a bad joke. "Are you at all worried that anyone here will try to gank your stuff and sell it? Must be tough being a celebrity. But... I mean, like..." He had to pause briefly to gather his thoughts. "Different place, same crap. You said you traveled a lot, and it was all the same everywhere. Misery, frustration... what can a handful of people do? I've thought about it a lot. I read the news a lot. I pay attention to stuff like welfare reform, immigration law... I don't even know. And now that I'm here, I don't even have the right to vote. So much for that."
Feeling more certain, Meg started to write again, tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth she was concentrating so hard. She did however feel the need to chip in at Leandro’s comment about underwear, distaste clear on her face even if he had been making a joke. “I actually got requests for underwear, worn underwear, it was beyond gross.”
Raising an eyebrow as he went on, she couldn’t help wondering if he’d taken a couple of knocks to the head at some point - sure he didn’t seem crazy but he was definitely a little over the place and coming from her that was saying something. “Never had the chance to myself,” she said, pausing in her writing. “Only turned eighteen last November so...”
Dominic decided to skip to the end of what Leandro was saying, to continue the conversation. "So what were you thinking when you were following all that? Were you going to get into a political movement?" he asked curiously. Since Leandro seemed politically bent, even if it was in a very clear 'the government sucks' vein. He got it, definitely, but he was curious what Leandro's motivations were, or if he was the type who saw problems but just spread the word about those problems.
So it was pretty gross, but Leandro pinched his lips together and stifled a laugh at the idea of Meg being asked for her underwear. "That reminds me of some Silence of the Lambs crap," he chortled under his breath. "Did you guys see that? With that guy who's all "I can smell you-"" In a rare moment of thoughtfulness, he censored the rest of the quote for the sake of saying it in front of a lady. "That's pretty bizarre."
To Dominic, he glanced down at his hands briefly, and then back up to him from around Meg's generous hair. "I don't know what I was thinking. I think I hoped that if I just paid attention long enough and gathered enough information, I'd figure it out eventually. There wasn't a lot I could do, though. I've been in trouble more often than not, and frankly a lot of the people I'd care to help aren't even legally able to do anything about the state of things. I'm Mexican, my mom was Mexican, and a lot of people we knew weren't even legal citizens... us included. So... the jury is out."
Meg had in fact seen Silence of the Lambs and knew the exact part Leandro was quoting, smirking slightly as he cut himself off. “Believe me when I say I’ve heard a lot worse than that,” she told him, shrugging slightly. Hearing him go on about his life though she felt a glimmer of understanding towards him.
"When did you come over here?" Dominic asked. His family had loved employing illegals. It had been something they did more often than not, really, something Dominic only truly became aware of later in life. He knew that they'd been treated poorly at best. But then his family was made up of assholes, so there was that.
Leandro shifted in his seat a little, silent for a moment before answering. He didn't normally speak about himself so much, but... well, this was Dom and Meg. They weren't just anyone at all. When he looked up again he had a half-smile on his face, but it was a little chilled. "Eh, well, I was born here, but I was born without paperwork. If the cops had found us they would have deported both me and my mom without much thought. But... then she... passed," He had to stop for a second and brush the shape of a cross over his shoulders in the traditional Catholic style before continuing. "And I was adopted by Daddy State. So it all worked out in the end, didn't it? Heh."
“Guess we’ve all got our own flavour of shitty past haven’t we?” Meg said, looking up at him, her expression sympathetic, her hand that wasn’t occupied with writing squeezing Dominic’s shoulder.
Dominic rubbed Meg's back lightly in response, nodding in agreement with her statement. "Yeah. We all do. Still, sorry about your mother." he said with genuine sympathy to Leandro. Who appeared to actually have affection for the woman, where as his could disappear forever and he couldn't give less of a damn. "Anyway." he said with a sigh. "On from distressing topics?" he asked. "And don't you see the doc today to see about this?" he asked Meg, knocking on her cast.
"Yeah, so we do," Leandro agreed too, nodding along. There wasn't much more to be said for that. It felt more like a simple statement of camaraderie. "Thanks, though. It's been a long time, so... I'm okay." He let off a more disarming smile, moving on just as quickly. He sat up and draped one arm over the back of the bench, hand hanging easily towards the ground. "Is there somewhere you guys have to be? Cool if you do. Was fun hanging out."
Seeing Cal had actually slipped her mind and Meg shot Dom a grateful smile for the reminder. “Yeah I do, he reckons it might be able to come off which’ll be nice,” she said, giving the cast a rueful look. “He said noon I think.”
"Glad to hear it, and yeah, it was fun. We'll have to do this again. Which, I'm sure there'll be a lot of time." Dominic said, giving Leandro a smile. He also snagged the marker from Meg, and scrawled quickly across her cast 'property of dominic ravin'. He grinned at her. Then he gave the marker back. "Should probably get going then. Not that I have much of a concept of what time it is, but it has to be getting close." he said. Scooping her up, he gently set her down on her feet again, and he grabbed his shirt to tug on. She could finish the DNR later. "Good to meet you, Leandro."
With a stretch of long, giraffe-like legs off the bench, Leandro slowly stood up and considered his next move. He wasn't feeling all that hungry yet, so probably back to his room for a while to figure it out. He rose one hand and waved to both of them, still smiling. "Yeah thanks, you too. It's been an honor. If you guys ever get bored, you're welcome to stop by room 2. Good luck with your cast, Meg. Hope that feels better." With that, he'd turn back to the hallway.
Grinning right back at him, Meg smiled in approval at what was now written on her cast. When she realised Leandro was leaving, she tore her gaze away from it and gave him a small wave to his retreating back. “Thanks,” she said. “Be seeing you around.”